


Yule Ball Sweethearts

by muttthecowcat22



Series: YOI Event Oneshots [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: #victurigiftexchange, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Durmstrang Victor Nikiforov, Fluff, Hufflepuff Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Triwizard Tournament, Victuri Gift Exchange, Yule Ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 10:30:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13246338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muttthecowcat22/pseuds/muttthecowcat22
Summary: Yuuri is in love with Viktor . . . Krum?





	Yule Ball Sweethearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Neemochan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neemochan/gifts).



> Hufflepuff Yuuri and Durmstrang Victor for @neemochan. I hope you like it!!! It's super fluffy!
> 
> This fic is part of the Victuri Gift Exchange. However, I have decided to post it outside of the collection due to it never being released. I will add it back to the collection if it opens at any time in the future.

Yuuri stared enraptured as the Seekers flew past him, swirling high in the air above his seat near the top of the stadium at the Quidditch World Cup. It was the best day of his life. Yuuri could actually see Viktor, really see him, not just a poster of him, and he held up to all of Yuuri’s expectations. He really was as good as Yuuri always believed he would be. It didn’t matter that Yuuri’s parents and Mari beside them were decked out in solid green and shamrocks. Yuuri wore the bright red of Bulgaria, as he watched Viktor’s nuanced movements through his omnioculars, the skill with which he commanded his broom, the determination to catch the snitch even after losing the game.

Yuuri wanted to be just like him, to play for England at the World Cup by the time he was eighteen, to be a professional player once he finished school at Hogwarts, but . . . he hadn’t even been able to make Hufflepuff’s team by his fourth year. It was true that Cedric let him practice with the team nearly every time they met, but that was probably just Cedric’s general good-heartedness and pity for Yuuri.

The crowds cheered for Viktor Krum as he held the snitch, and Yuuri cheered too, more enthralled with him than ever before, to find that he was not just a good Quidditch player but a determined one.

* * *

After the World Cup, Yuuri collected more posters than ever before, covering the entire wall behind his bed at Hogwarts with them, which was why Phichit and several of the other boys at the Hufflepuff table began snickering when Viktor Krum walked into the Great Hall with the remainder of the Durmstrang delegation. Viktor looked dashing, his bright red robes contrasting with his dark features, just brushing past the back of Phichit's chair. The other Durmstrang students followed him, all short dark hair and red robes . . . except for one. The last student to walk into the Great Hall looked more like he should be from Beauxbatons than Durmstrang, what with his ethereally long, silver hair, and light features. He walked past the tables with the same focus as the other Durmstrang students, though. Despite it all, he looked oddly familiar, like Yuuri had seen him somewhere before but couldn't place him. Yuuri saw several students from the other tables discretely pointing at the silver-haired student, perhaps they had seen him somewhere as well.

He turned his eyes back to Viktor, who was already seated at a table and staring at the ceiling of the Great Hall.

“He’s pretty,” Phichit whispered, nudging Yuuri.

“Yeah,” Yuuri replied, “well, I wouldn’t exactly call him pretty, but he’s nice to look at, handsome.”

“No, I’m talking about silver ponytail guy over there, but, nevermind. So, are you going to ask Viktor to the dance?”

“What dance?”

Phichit sighed, “There’s a dance closer to Christmas – it’s part of the tournament. I think you should ask Viktor to go with you.”

Yuuri made some sort of noncommittal reply before Professor Dumbledore called their attention to the front of the room.

The Triwizard Tournament shone before them. Yuuri wanted to compete - not that he would ever tell anyone, seeing as he couldn't even make the Quidditch team. He didn't meet the age requirement anyway.

* * *

Of course, Harry Potter couldn't be bothered with age requirements, apparently.

* * *

Yuuri did not ask Viktor to the dance. He didn’t ask anyone to go with him – not for lack of trying, or attempting to try, at least. He just couldn’t work up the nerve to ask Viktor when so many other students wanted to ask him as well. Yuuri couldn’t compete with the other students, especially the sixth and seventh years.

So, he went to the Yule Ball, pathetically defeated, as the third wheel with Phichit and his date, a rather brooding Ravenclaw that had never said a word to Yuuri before but kept pointedly staring at him. Yuuri had never quite understood Phichit's tastes.

When the dancing began, Yuuri’s heart dropped even further.

Of course, Viktor had asked Hermione Granger to the dance; she was pretty, smart, and brave, a true Gryffindor. They were beautiful, dancing together under the snowy decorations for the ball. Hermione’s dress flowed beautifully as they danced, the periwinkle color fitting nicely with Viktor’s red.

Yuuri looked down at his own ancient dress robes, dated and tattered. He sat at one of the tables near the back of the room, watching the other students dance. He would have loved to twirl around the dance floor himself, but he felt chained to the table, alone.

At some point, Phichit spotted him and asked him to a few songs, while the sour Ravenclaw took a break. However, when Yuuri returned to his seat at the table, he felt his lack of a date even more pointedly. Viktor and Hermione looked like they were genuinely having fun, still dancing and smiling at each other.

Yuuri looked down when he heard his stomach rumble. He was too nervous at the beginning of the ball to eat most of the food that had appeared on his plate. A few pieces of candy were scattered at the center of the table, for decoration mainly, but he picked up one – a Fizzing Whizzbee – and let the sugar sizzle on his tongue. He spotted the silver haired Durmstrang student out on the dance floor, jumping and spinning with a number of students in some kind of group step. Watching his quick, sporadic movements, Yuuri finally remembered where he recognized the student from. The silver haired student was pictured in one of his Viktor posters, standing in the background with several of the other Quidditch players from Durmstrang. Yuuri wondered what position he played. He picked up another Fizzing Whizzbee off the table and popped it into his mouth.

As he watched the ball carry on, Yuuri ate through ever more Fizzing Whizzbees. With each candy, he felt slightly better, like he could just float over the ball and all his other problems. He still regretted not asking Viktor to dance, though. Maybe this floating feeling was him building up the courage to try.

* * *

Victor thought he had finally proven himself, after years of grueling work and ridicule for not fitting in with the Durmstrang aesthetic, he had held his Seeker position on the second Quidditch team for three years and been selected as part of the delegation to Hogwarts. Of course, he didn’t qualify to actually enter the tournament – he was too young by a single year. No, that distinction went to the other Viktor, Krum, who was generally too nice of a guy for Victor to actually resent.

He just, well, he was beginning to feel as if all his work for the past three years meant nothing in the end – because of his age, not being old enough soon enough, or his looks or any other of the million uncontrollable aspects of his life. The other Viktor had already made the national team. He could win the Triwizard Tournament. How was Victor supposed to go pro, if no one noticed him for anything other than his hair? And, the other Viktor was generally well-liked; Victor himself never had been, at least not at Durmstrang. At least the attention he received at Hogwarts was something novel.

He let the music and dancing at the ball wash his troubles away for a while. Dancing with many people, but never the same ones for long. He couldn't handle the vapid conversations that ensued if he were to dwell too long on any one partner.

During one song, he thought he heard someone call his name. When the song ended, he definitely heard his name called again. He turned his head, searching for the call’s source and found a younger Hogwart’s student – wearing ancient robes with an atrocious light blue tie. The boy himself, though, with his dark eyes and slicked back darker hair, was a complete surprise. He walked straight up to Victor and said, “Let’s dance.” And before Victor could even manage a reply, they were dancing like Victor hadn’t danced the entire night. The other student’s feet barely touched the floor. Victor had fun, fun like he hadn’t had in a long time.

“Play Quidditch with me,” the student said as he clung to Victor during the middle of the song, “when we both make it big, don’t forget – I want to play Quidditch with you.” And, somehow the boy knew more about Victor than the color of his hair. Victor couldn’t help but smile at the first person in the school to recognize him for the one thing he really wanted.

Victor didn’t switch partners again for the remainder of the night. At some point, the boy fished a pair of adorable blue wide-rimmed glasses out of his robes and slid them over his nose.

Eventually, the student – whose name Victor discovered to be Yuuri – tired, long after Victor himself had first felt winded. He slumped into Victor’s side as they walked together out into the rose garden, their breaths puffing in the cold winter air. Once they found a decent bench under the string lights, Yuuri laid his head on Victor’s shoulder and appeared to fall asleep.

Victor would have sat on that bench all night with the boy if it meant that he could hold onto him a little longer.

* * *

When Yuuri came to, he felt warm, or at least half of his body felt warm pressed up against . . . something . . . a person. He nearly screamed but just managed to hold it in, realizing that the person he was leaning against was asleep as well. Yuuri could see the bright red of Durmstrang robes draping across his legs and the glow of silver hair falling over his arm. His memories of the ball came back to him, spinning and blurry, but there.

He was so dumb. Instead of asking Viktor Krum to dance, which he couldn’t say was a fantastic decision to begin with, he had asked the silver haired Durmstrang Quidditch player, who was also apparently named Victor, who was also also one of the most beautiful students at the entire school. Yuuri had practically kidnapped him for the entire night – half of the school must have hated him for it.

He didn’t regret it, though.

Dancing with silver haired Victor had been the happiest and most carefree moment of his life since the year began.

It was too good to be true, though, that Victor had actually enjoyed dancing with him.

A cold wind blew across the bench where they were sitting. The student next to him stirred.

“Hi,” Victor said, as he pulled away slightly, his eyes finding Yuuri’s. And, wow, the blue in Victor’s eyes sparkled brilliantly under the string lights hanging in the trees. Victor really was pretty, beautiful actually. Too pretty to actually like someone like Yuuri.

Yuuri gulped down the odd feeling that had washed over him and said, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Victor asked, tilting his head, the slight smile he had sported until then vanishing.

“When I asked you to dance, I might have actually been looking for Viktor Krum.”

A frown appeared on Victor’s face. He looked sad, and . . . that was not how Yuuri thought this would go. Victor was supposed to be relieved that he didn’t have to deal with Yuuri anymore after the dance. “I mean, I didn’t mean to ask either of you to dance,” Yuuri said, “but well . . .” And that did not help things either, Victor’s frown deepening.

“Oh, really?” Victor asked, pulling farther away with a smile reappearing on his face – an angry smile.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry . . . uh,” Yuuri flailed, waving his hands, “. . . what can I say to make it better?”

“Hmmm, you could say that you enjoyed dancing with me and that you loved every second that you spent out here sleeping on my shoulder?”

“But, I did!” Yuuri blurted before he felt a rather large amount of heat rise to his face.

“You did?” Victor arched a silver eyebrow. “What about Krum?”

“I’m his fan, I have been for a long time, I want to play for my own national team one day . . . but, uh, I’m really glad I got to dance with you.” He looked up, hopeful, towards Victor's eyes, only to find them narrowed.

“What position do you play?” Victor asked.

“What?”

“In Quidditch?”

“Seeker, but I haven’t made the team yet,” Yuuri admitted, looking down.

“I play Seeker too,” Victor said before going silent for a moment. He looked up at the night sky, the golden lights in the garden playing across his face. “You’ll make the team next year when Diggory’s spot is vacant." His paused for a minute as a gust blew around them. "Don’t give up. I had to fight for a long time to keep my position.”

“Thanks, I – uh, that’s something I worry about a lot, so just thanks.” Yuuri stared at his legs, where Victor had covered them in the outer layer of his robes. Victor drew towards him again by just the slightest distance. The silence held between them, comfortable and warm.

“So, is the other Viktor really as good as he seems?” Yuuri asked after a while, and . . . why had he said that? It had seemed like such a good thing to say in his head. Apparently, he was trying to do his best to chase away the only good thing that had happened to him that night.

“If I told you I could beat him, would you believe me?” Victor looked down again from the sky, his clear blue eyes finding Yuuri’s again, not hurt, but determined, searching.

“Yeah, I think I would," Yuuri said, not to placate him but because he wanted to believe in this Victor.

Victor smiled, and Yuuri thought he could see the second it touched his eyes. Another wind blew around them, and Yuuri shivered, tucking his hands in his lap under the red fabric.

“Hey, why not tomorrow, when it’s not so cold, we play together? Just you and me?” Victor said.  
  
“T-That – I don’t know. . . “

“Come on, Yuuri, it’ll just be me.”

“Yeah, just you, just gorgeous you, who can defeat Viktor Krum and who everyone at the dance wanted to dance with and then I cut in and ruined your whole night.”

“No – no, I loved dancing with you more than anyone!” He took Yuuri’s hands between his own. Yuuri hadn’t realized how cold they had grown in the frost until the warmth of Victor's hands nearly burned them.

Victor must have noticed as well because he took off his gloves and shoved them over Yuuri’s fingers. Yuuri just stared at him, surprised, his mouth falling slightly open. Without warning, Victor reached up and touched his bottom lip.

Yuuri thought his face might literally catch on fire, but he didn’t pull away. He found that he wanted to stay there with Victor, and it warmed his heart. Victor still looked so beautiful under the lights, his lips flushed to a bright pink in the cold.

“Can I kiss you?” Yuuri heard himself say. And, why did he say things like this? He just ruined everything . . . everything . . .

“Yes,” Victor whispered out into the air between them, a pink flush spreading from his cheeks to his nose. Yuuri stared at him shocked for a second before leaning in and kissing him . . . on the cheek. Victor’s skin was smooth, but cold from the air.

“Not a real kiss?” Victor asked, jokingly. And, he really shouldn’t have asked because Yuuri was determined to hold onto him.

His face heated once more, but Yuuri still leaned in again silently, bringing his hand up to Victor’s cheek and tilting his face just so before touching another kiss to his lips.

* * *

Victor nearly melted on the spot. This kiss did not linger, but it was warm and sweet – Yuuri’s lips tasting of the candy that he had apparently eaten at the ball, and Yuuri’s hand was steady on his cheek. The hard edge of Yuuri’s glasses just barely brushed Victor’s temple as he pulled back.

Victor couldn’t keep the smile off his face. For a moment Yuuri looked concerned, before he smiled as well, his dark eyes glowing with it, and for just another moment, Victor felt cared for and . . . special, before the feeling faded with the snow drifting down around them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I always appreciate kudos or comments!


End file.
